


Jumps

by GoofyGoldenGirl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Childhood, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Illnesses, Infancy, Memory Loss, Mother-Son Relationship, Motherhood, Pregnancy, Spoilers, season 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 15:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13860864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoofyGoldenGirl/pseuds/GoofyGoldenGirl
Summary: An expansion on Haggar's flashbacks from season 5 episode 2





	Jumps

_Jump_

Haggar had managed to drift back into consciousness. She stiffly lay on the bed, too weak to move. Shadowy figures towered over her, flitting about, talking to each other in low and incoherent voices. 

“She’s awake.”

“Haggar?”

Their scorching hands were upon her again. They went to the swelling in her abdomen that ballooned up to the top of her robes, grotesquely looming over the skeletal frame of her chest, arms and legs. Haggar’s hollow gaze was fixed on the ceiling. Her chapped mouth stretched to let out a groan. 

“She’s responding. Let’s try feeding her again.”

They gave her one spoonful of food. She had not even finished swallowing when the nausea tided over. The figures quickly descended to support her. 

“She’s not keeping anything down and she’s loosing fluids.”

“Could it be possible that the quintessence is overriding her systems?”

Her head spun. Stars of white flickered before her eyes before it all went to black and shadows once more. 

An eternity passed before she awoke again to a new round of pain. Her belly felt like a ball of flames that rose higher and higher. Wisps of shadows brushed against her belly, a sensation so excruciating that she screamed. The scanner beside her blinked and beeped uncontrollably, highlighting the outline of a womb in the humanoid like figure. 

“Sire, her placenta detached. Our only option is to induce labor.”

Something pleasantly warm and gentle settled on her forehead. It smoothed back withered strands of hair before curling up to let go. She heard the hand’s holder breathe.

“Can you save the child?” Zarkon’s voice came clear.

Haggar’s head sharply turned up to gaze at the man whose unusual familiarity escaped her. She choked on sound. Her eyes widened before the stars flooded her again.

“We will try sire. There are many complications. But we will try.” 

_Jump_

Every single time Haggar woke up she was disoriented and weak. She spent days asleep at a time while her body tried to heal. The figures that came to her that she was still recovering, that it was a slow one, but she and the baby were getting better.

“I gave birth?” Haggar asked.

“Yes you did,” they kept on telling her.

“If I was pregnant I would have remembered. Where is this child you speak of?” She angrily questioned. 

“Lotor is in the infirmary.”

“Why does he have to be there and not with me?”

He needs constant supervision. He was born before term and extremely underweight. It would be difficult to move him to your room Honerva.”

“Who’s Honerva? My name is Haggar. Where am I? Why do I feel so weak?”

“You’re still recovering.”

“Recovering from what?” 

Different figures came to her each day. They eventually stopped telling her who the child was. He became just _a_ child to her who was mentioned in passing to not be brought up again. By the time she had fully recuperated herself, she expressed no desire to see the child. Until one day when the great leader Zarkon came back from a conquest. He asked an advisor about his child, and something about his request sparked curiosity inside of her.

So Haggar set out for the infirmary. The door creaked open. The room was dark and grim, a dreary place to hold an infant. Lotor lay in his crib. He tried to kick off the blankets that covered him. He gurgled and cooed with delight. The sound sent a strange sort of tenderness through Haggar. She wished to hear it again, to see the child for herself. She stopped down at the crib and peered down. Her expression softened and her hand reached out to touch the baby.

Lotor hiccuped. He opened his mouth and wailed. He rocked back. Forth. His body pushed Haggar’s hand away.

Her hand snapped back to her. She gazed back at the squalling baby, perplexed and hurt for a reason she did not know why.

_Jump_

Haggar’s concentration broke. The barrier she had conjured fell a part with a shatter. The sound of laughter and scurrying feet rang in her ears. Furious, she rose to her feet and stormed out of her chamber. 

The Lotor brat. Did that boy ever _listen?_ How many times did it fall upon her to scold him for running about the corridor when he wasn’t supposed to. Why couldn’t any of his nannies and tutors pick up the slack to do it themselves? She was Zarkon’s _right hand._ It wasn’t _her_ job to take care of him. She wasn’t a nanny, not a tutor, and certainly wasn’t his _mother._

The sleeves of her robes swished about as she situated herself right in Lotor’s path. The boy came to a halt, almost tripping over his feet as he caught sight of who he almost ran into.

“What do you think you’re doing boy?” She shouted at him.

Fear crossed Lotor’s face before it resumed its smug expressed. His fists balled up, he slid back, and then he looked her straight in the eye.

Haggar _glared_ back.

Lotor’s confidence broke. With a shout, he turned and ran.

_Jump_

The boy was now a man. He stood with his back facing Haggar and Zarkon. His voice was controlled and calm.

“Why? Why must you do this to me?”

He spun about with a point at Haggar. His voice warped into a mad shriek:

“Especially _you_ you **witch!** ”

His words felt like daggers piercing her heart. Haggar’s eyes widened. They welled up. 

Zarkon lunged forward. His rage matched his son’s. The two were shouting at each other, violently gesturing, and Haggar who prided on herself as a force to be feared, had been reduced to tears.

She didn’t know why Lotor’s words affected her so much. He was a _disgrace:_ to Zarkon, the entire Galra empire, and to _her._ He had been nothing but _trouble_ since the moment he was born and Haggar on many of an occasion wished that she could be _rid_ of him, yet his rage shook her to her very _core_ for reasons that she did not understand. 

She lowered her head. Her hood fell and obscured her face. She cried as father and son began to fight.


End file.
